


Reflections.

by Amancer_Sunrise



Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Sky (Linked Universe)-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28357026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amancer_Sunrise/pseuds/Amancer_Sunrise
Summary: For the first time in so long after meeting the others, Sky got to revisit just what kind of person he trulywas.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	Reflections.

**Author's Note:**

> Im actually feeling sad again, so Im venting through Sky again

Sky wasn't truly sure just what _it_ was. Those eyes _looked_ like his own, seemed to fit in it's skull the way his own did, and yet, what stared back at him was a stranger at _most._ Their hair fell in the same way his did, their lips just as round and full as his own, but time and time again, did he question just who this being on the other side truly was.

Their eyes held no shine, he liked to believe his did. The eyes that looked back at him was lacking the life his showed. Or was their eyes identical to his own?

No.

No that couldn't be.

The smile it wore was even _worst._ While his was comforting, kind and reassuring, the being on the other side seemed forced, unwilling, faked even. Sky has to fight the shiver that runs through him as he remembers.

It lifts it's arm at the same time he does, flex it's fingers one at a time. The pattern the same, thumb, pointer, middle, ring and pinky. One by one they move, slowly, cautiously. The being repeats the action, slowly. Cautiously. When Sky moves, so does the being on the other side, and yet, everything it seems to mimic looks more duller then when he does it.

He smiles.

It 'smiles'.

His smile drops.

It's 'smile' drops.

It scares him, shakes him to the core. Something is there, wearing his skin, using his eyes, wielding _his_ blade. It makes him nervous, nauseous, but his concerns are shrugged off. "It's _normal,"_ the others would say after a while, "It's normal for your reflection to show your true self. It's the only time your guard drops and you see yourself for who you truly are." He doesn't believe them, no, the being on the other side _isn't_ who he truly is. It couldn't be. _It couldn't be._

One day the expression changes.

He remembers walking off with a chuckle after some light and playful teasing from the group, and yet...

Sky doesn't know _why,_ he doesn't remember feeling the emotions the being felt. After all, there would be no real reason to _feel_ that way. Right? However, all he remembered was the fear that had begun to consume him all once more as he saw it's face in the water. The 'reflection' looked back at him, face twisted into a scowl, eyes burning with a similar rage and hatred he has only ever seen in one living creature, a demon, a king now slain.

_"You see yourself for who you truly are,"_ the voice repeats in his head, and Sky lets out and fearful shout, backing up as he does so.

That was not who he was.

_That was not who he was._

**_That was not who he was._ **

He made it a point to avoid ever seeing that thing, that _being._ It wears his face, wears his skin, even the shape of his eyes. The color of his hair, the hilt of his blade. It takes everything that he _has_ and wears it, attempting to deceive the eyes of all. Sky attempted to smile more often, offer words of understanding, attempt to reason with others. 

The Hero role he was meant to always play, show the others the kind of person he truly was.

He dares not admit, however, his patience is wearing _thin._

But he tells himself that the reflection he saw that day was not _him._ It couldn't have been _him._ It was never _him._ That being was toying with him, thoughts of it almost bordering that of obsession. Sky _had_ to prove _it_ and the others in the chain _wrong._ He _had too._

Even when his smiles barely shown, even when his tongue was much quicker and more acid filled than before, even when his face would contort into a look of _malice._

Someone finally stepped in, the day he almost snapped completely, their leader holding him tightly as he fought _wildly._ He was angry, _livid,_ ** _enraged._**

And yet he didn't know _why._

Playful banter took a quick turn for the worse.

The others stared, _horrified._

Sky had pushed their leader with a strength the others had never seen, leaving the camp with a deep unease in their guts as they watched the Chosen Hero storm off.

He needed to breathe.

He needed to _breathe._

He was met face to face with the lake, and for the first time, in what feels like centuries, Sky finally takes a look at his own reflection.

The being on the other side finally mimicked him to perfection. The look no longer scaring him. He stared, at first shocked.

_You see yourself as you truly are._

And Sky saw it, pooling in his eyes. The anger in them, hatred pouring off of him in waves. Angry at _them._ Angry at the _Gods._ Angry at _himself._

Angry at _them,_ the others, those he considered brothers, family. Angry because of the constant nitpicking. Angry at the passive-aggressive jokes, the constant name calling. The constant _need_ to be nice to _them_ when all they do is belittle him. Lazy. Soft. Weak. _Weak._ ** _Weak._**

His hands clench into fist, gritting his teeth.

Angry at the _Gods,_ and goodness, at _Hylia_ for using him. Using one who was barely a _man._ Forcing him in a journey that he honestly wanted _no part of._ Plaguing and cursing him endlessly with nightmares. Angry at the _Gods_ for making him sob endlessly when a gentle rain even so much as _hints_ and _teases_ the sound of thunder and the sight of rain. The adventure leaving his mind more scarred than he would like to admit. Old scars line up his arm, front and back, and even down his legs, the proof of a time where he would have rather been buried in the tomb he was promised than continue walking among the living. The relentless attacks on his own body done by his own hand after his adventure, especially when it had went from bad to downright _terrifying._ It was ironic what the Goddess told him, about his Spirit being unbreakable, and a complete bold face _lie_. His soul had been shattered over and over again, but he was a Hero. He could not admit such things before.

But of all that he could think of to be angry, _who_ to be angry with, none could top the hatred and anger that festers in his core for his own _life._

The pure malice he feels for his own existing soul is _overwhelming._ His existence causes the trouble for so _many._ For he is the weakest in the chain, weakest out of all those who hold the spirit of the Hero. Angry at his weakness, angry at his softness, angry at everything that he has been molded to become. Angry that his problems will never compare to what the others experienced, angry at the very being who stares at him with the same glare he returns. Angry that the others are _right._ He was useless, the kind of Hero one does not _need._ The kind of life that had been a simple waste of _skin._ He was not brave as others thought, not strong as others thought. He was not worthy to hold the power of the Gods in his palm. He was not worthy to call himself the Chosen Hero.

When his eyes meet with his reflection once more, he breaks. His eyes water and fat tears roll down his cheeks.

And his reflection mimicked every movement, as much as he wished otherwise.

For the first time in so long after meeting the others, Sky got to revisit just what kind of person he truly _was._

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes ur depressed and needa vent.
> 
> please be gentle


End file.
